


Ordeal by Pizza

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-31
Updated: 1998-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 06:23:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11330304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: A fantasy in which Krycek doesn't have to spend the night on the balcony after all and Skinner takes some revenge in an unusual way.





	Ordeal by Pizza

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Ordeal by Pizza by Jane Symons

Thu Apr 10 12:38:54 1997  
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative  
Subject: Ordeal by Pizza (NC-17 slash)  
It's about time someone wrote a story wherein Krycek gets spanked. Ratboy-haters will not find satisfication here, however, because he enjoys it so very much.  
Please send comments to Jane via Tina at .

Ordeal by Pizza  
By Jane Symons  
CLASSIFICATION: NC-17 Krycek/Skinner, B & D, some romance, a little cooking.  
SUMMARY: A Tunguska fantasy in which Krycek doesn't have to spend the night on the balcony after all and Skinner takes some revenge in an unusual way.   
This is rated NC-17. Contains graphic depiction of consentual sex between two adult males (Krycek/Skinner). Not to be read by those under 17 - you should be outside in the fresh air at your age anyway. Spoilers for Tunguska and Terma. Warning to dedicated cooks: You may never feel the same about your kitchen after reading this. All X-Files Characters belong to Ten-Thirteen, Chris Carter and 20th Century Fox and are used without permission.  
Any and all feedback welcome to ><.

* * *

Walter Skinner turned restlessly in his bed. He longed for deep dreamless sleep, even a sledge hammer over the head, anything to stop the thoughts that pounded away in his mind. They were thoughts that seemed only to be able to take a circular route, returning always - like a bee to honey - to the same central theme and they were driving him crazy.

He heard the sound of Krycek's handcuffs from the balcony below the bedroom window. They rattled against the iron railings each time the young man changed position or moved around to keep warm and it took all Skinner's self-control to stay in bed. A bee to honey.

Masturbation had done nothing to relieve the longing, had in fact made it worse because Skinner knew from past experience that Krycek could do it for him a million times better.

Perhaps the sheer effort of trying not to think about Alex Krycek was responsible for keeping him awake. Skinner toyed with the idea of giving in to it, of thinking of him, going over everything that had happened. Maybe that way he could find some peace, shut a door on an episode in his past that had nagged away at him for almost a year now.

Moving over onto his back, he lay his hands on his stomach and stared up into the darkness. Alex Krycek. Even his name shot a bolt of desire through Skinner's body. He thought back to when Krycek had first come on the scene. The attraction to Alex had been powerful and immediate, depriving Skinner of his usual caution, even before he had experienced the physical delight of him. Introduced to the staff by Cancer Man, Skinner had had little to do with Krycek's induction into the department, had stepped back for a while, watching the young man's developing relationship with Mulder, how he had slowly and patiently won a little of the agent's trust. At first when Krycek came to Skinner's office, he was always with Mulder, and the Assistant Director had to be content with living on memories of long thick lashes and the sensual mouth. He took the memories to bed with him, working hard on breathtaking fantasies, always waking with a longing to know the reality.

Finally, he met Krycek alone. It seemed then to be a lucky coincidence, meeting accidentally one Saturday morning in Skinner's local gym. He believed now that Krycek had planned it all very carefully but Skinner was still uncertain whether Alex's plans had been motivated by genuine sexual attraction or an eye to future blackmail. He told himself it hardly mattered now anyway but he had the feeling that the answer to that question was the driving force behind his sleepless night.

After a morning spent at the gym, they'd ended up in bed later that day, making love for hours on end, as if each were the answer to the other's erotic dreams. Within a few hours of their meeting, Skinner had successfully broken all his own rules, letting one of his own agents into his bed and into his life, endangering career, marriage and reputation. But whenever he doubted the sanity of their affair, Alex only had to smile or touch him and Skinner would melt. Sex with Krycek was the best he'd known - Alex shared his taste, the wilder and dirtier the better he liked it and his betrayal had hurt all the more for what they'd shared.

He heard the handcuffs clanging again, disturbing him profoundly, but this time it sounded as if Krycek was jerking at them in anger. Skinner sat up and switched on the light. Silence. He realised Alex was scared, thinking the light coming on might mean another beating. That thought broke yet another wave of desire over him.

So much for thinking Krycek out of his system. To hell with it. He and Krycek were alone together, with Mulder gone there would be no witnesses. And no-one would believe Krycek's word against his. Having spent four hours out on the balcony, Alex must be freezing cold, miserably hungry and vulnerable, just how Skinner wanted him to be. It was payback time. His erection bucked in anticipation.

Skinner put his trousers back on and padded downstairs.

The snow fell so thickly that it formed an opaque wall in front of him. He was alone, he was naked, he was so cold now that even his mind seemed to be frozen. The snow thickened until he realised that it had built up on all sides of him, an endless white tomb.

Krycek snapped awake with a gasp. For a split second it was a relief to find that he was handcuffed to a balcony on the seventeenth floor of a Crystal City apartment. It was okay, it was fine, everyone should try it at least once in their lives.

Incredible that he could have fallen asleep. He was so cold that he felt as stiff as the balcony he was attached to. Slowly, moaning in pain, Krycek eased himself into a standing position, swaying in the wind. The lights of downtown Alexandria glittered and danced around beneath him.

He couldn't blame Skinner for leaving him there. The man had been duped and dumped. Well, not entirely duped, and he wouldn't have been entirely dumped if it hadn't been for the requirements of Krycek's assignment. He remembered Skinner's powerful frame towering over him on the balcony. He'd caught the bittersweet smell of the man's body and been surprised by a fervent desire for him. Oh it had been good with Skinner. It was the only regret he had and it nagged at him with a frequency that disturbed him.

God he was freezing to death here! Maybe he would blame Skinner. If he'd ever had any feelings for him at all, how could he leave him out there? Goddammit, Skinner was going to freeze him to death!

Angrily he jerked at the handcuffs, focusing his rage, making noise, a child wanting attention.

The light in Skinner's bedroom came on. Krycek stopped rattling the handcuffs, having second thoughts. Perhaps he was about to get more attention than was healthy for him.

Krycek was in a more advanced state of cold that Skinner had anticipated. Pale as a ghost, propped up against the balcony rail, the young man was shivering violently, his teeth chattering in his head. He had, however, lost none of his spirit.

"I want to put in a complaint to the management," Krycek said angrily, his voiced cracked and trembling, "my room's draughty and the bed's too damn hard."

Skinner's face remained impassive as he roughly unlocked the handcuff attached to the railing. "You're lucky the management doesn't chuck you out - all the way down to the ground floor."

He dragged Krycek inside. The heat of the apartment hit Alex like a furnace, for a moment he found it hard to breathe. He found himself heaved along to the kitchen, pushed down into a chair and handcuffed to it with his hands behind his back.

Krycek blinked ferociously until his eyes stopped hurting in the brightness. He was sitting at a pine table, laid for two, and the smell of pizza and percolating coffee suddenly hit his nostrils, making his stomach protest in hunger. He looked up at Skinner. He was pouring out a beer.

God, Krycek thought dazedly, what's he going to do, forcefeed me to death?

"I understand from Agent Mulder that you have some vital information for us, Krycek."

"That's right." He wished his teeth would stop rattling in his head.

Skinner drank down half a glass of beer, slowly and sensuously, enjoying every mouthful as he swallowed it down, enjoying most of all the look of envy on Krycek's face. He put the glass, half empty, on the table in front of Krycek so that he could smell it and hear it fizzing in the glass and long for it. It was Alex's favourite beer.

"So, are you going to give it to me or am I to die of boredom waiting for it?" Skinner pulled hot pizza from the microwave - prawn and anchovy, another of Krycek's favourites - and placed it in the middle of the table. He cut it in half, taking a piece for himself, leaving Krycek to gaze helplessly at the remaining half.

"I'm only giving information under standard procedure." Green eyes glared across the table at Skinner, hurt fawn-like eyes. 

"Which is?" Skinner asked with his mouth full. He remembered when those eyes used to blaze with passion.

"In a proper interrogation room with a recorder and another FBI agent as witness." Thank God he'd stopped shivering, anger was warming him up nicely. But his stomach felt as if it was turning in on itself with hunger. He could almost kill for that pizza. Damn you, Skinner, and damn your nasty little game.

"I see." Skinner got up again from the table to pour himself a mug of coffee. He didn't really want any but he liked the idea of the smell drifting over towards Krycek. He sat down again and took another bite of pizza. He was enjoying himself. "I didn't realise you're so familiar with standard procedure, Krycek." He finished his mouthful and briefly sucked his thumb and forefinger clean. "It's not standard procedure to put the lives of fellow agents in serious danger, is it?"

The hurt fawn-like eyes took on a trapped expression.

"It's not standard procedure to seduce your superior officer in case you need to blackmail him later on."

"Skinner, I didn't - "

"Or to say goodbye to him with three cowardly punches in the stomach." He was growing angry. He didn't want Krycek to see how much emotional damage he'd done and so he fell silent, giving himself time to bring his emotions in line again.

Krycek had the good grace to blush mildly. "Skinner, I never intended to blackmail you. I wanted that affair with you. If it hadn't been for my assignment - "

"Oh you're all heart, Krycek." Time to throw him off-centre. I can fuck with your mind, boy, Skinner thought, as well as your body. "Our affair may have been short but I seem to know so much about you. This is your favourite pizza, your favourite beer. I know which side of the bed you prefer, how you like your coffee, the way you like to be sucked and fucked. I also know things you told me about yourself."

Krycek tensed. What the hell is he playing at now?

"And I remember you once told me that your parents were Russian."

Where the fuck is he going with this? Krycek assumed an innocent puzzled expression.

"And since your disappearance, I started to wonder, what if Krycek was a Russian spy?" Okay so he'd only just thought of it but what did that matter. It was a preposterous idea but all he wanted to do was shake Krycek up. No American would relish such suspicion. It might make him talk. "Maybe your parents were unhappy and homesick. They may have instilled a hatred of this country into you. You're homosexual which may have added to your feelings of alienation. A perfect background for a spy."

Krycek's mind raced. Skinner couldn't possibly know, they couldn't have made the connection with Russia yet, it's a wild shot in the dark, I have got to get him off this track. He quickly considered his options and decided on tears. Tears were Skinner's Achilles heel, he just couldn't handle them.

"If anyone's a spy round here, it's the guy Mulder calls Cancer Man!" Krycek started working himself up. "You have no idea -the things he made me do."

"No-one can make you do anything."

"He blackmailed me, Skinner, while I was at Quantico. Because I was gay. Said he could ruin my career before it had even begun!"

Skinner sat very still, watching him across the table, the kitchen lights reflecting in his glasses. Good, he'd loosened Krycek's tongue at last which was exactly what he'd intended. He'd get some information on Cancer Man tonight, if nothing else.

Krycek was breathing heavily with emotion. "When I realised he was planning to have Scully kidnapped, I wanted out, whatever the cost. That's when he started torturing me!" He widened his eyes, feigning terror at the memories.

"How?" Skinner's tone was disbelieving.

"Heat and cold. Electric currents. The usual ways of inflicting pain without physical damage." His eyes started to fill up with tears. "I was so alone, Skinner, I was so scared, I've never felt so alone."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Skinner kept his tone severe but he was shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"He's so powerful. No-one could help." A tear glittered down his cheek. "And you'd have ruined your own career. I didn't have a choice. I had to do what he asked. And then when he wanted me to disappear - I had to - I couldn't let you know - say goodbye. I wanted to tell you everything - but I couldn't." More tears ran down his cheeks, his voice was breaking. "And then the bastard tried to kill me. Tried to blow me up with a car bomb. And then when that didn't work - the bastard left me for dead in a silo." He was sobbing now. He watched Skinner get up from his chair and come over to him. "Left me for dead eight stories underground. Nearly a year I've been running from him. And I'm still running."

Skinner sat down on the edge of the table, close to Krycek, looking down at him. Most of his anger had dissipated with the vicious blow to the stomach and leaving Krycek to suffer on the balcony. What was left had been sufficiently appeased by Krycek's explanation for Skinner to feel moved by his distress. He had no guarantee that Alex spoke the truth, all Skinner knew was that he wanted very much to believe him. Sitting and talking with him had brought all the feelings for him fermenting to the surface. On top of that, Krycek's appearance was so tantalisingly changed, he looked streetwise and sexy, hinting at all kinds of experience, and Skinner longed to taste that change in his ex-lover for himself. He watched Krycek trying to control himself, swallowing back the tears. Skinner put out his hand and ran the back of his index finger along Krycek's wet cheek. 

"You know you only have yourself to blame." He spoke gently although his words were unforgiving.

It was all Krycek needed. He turned his head to plant a series of passionate kisses on Skinner's hand. The force of feeling took Skinner's breath away. His hand fell to Krycek's shoulder and stayed there.

"I've missed you so much," Krycek sobbed. This much at least was true. "I tried to forget you - to put you out of my mind - but I couldn't. I've longed for you, Skinner, I've wanted you so badly." Alex looked up at him, his fawn-eyes wide and brimming over. Walt Disney could hardly have created a more heart-rending sight. "Can you forgive me?"

With a suppressed groan, Skinner grabbed Krycek's face between his hands and kissed him ravenously. Krycek opened his mouth wide, closing his eyes, abandoning himself entirely to Skinner's kiss. He may never see this man again and at any moment Skinner could come to his senses and throw him back outside on the balcony. Krycek wanted to fix every second spent with him firmly in his mind and senses. His hands tied to the chair, there was little he could do to initiate any lovemaking. All he could do was make the kiss hot enough to whip Skinner's libido up another notch or two so that the man had no rational thoughts left in his brain.

Krycek set about it enthusiastically, mixing his saliva liberally with Skinner's, answering the force of Skinner's tongue thrust for thrust, sucking hard, giving little whimpers of excitement and encouragement.

Skinner would have to break soon for air or die. Oh but what a way to go. Christ, he thought, I'd forgotten what a hot little kisser the boy was. He thrust harder into the sweet soft hungry depths of Krycek's mouth and the last remaining particle of self control deserted him completely.

Grabbing at the collar of Krycek's leather jacket, Skinner pulled him roughly to his feet and into the naked warmth of his arms. The chair followed Krycek, scraping noisily along the kitchen tiles, dangling behind him from his handcuffed wrists. Skinner put one strong hand behind Alex's head, brutally plundering his mouth, while the other gripped his firm buttocks, bringing him hard against his crotch, grinding his steel hard erection over Krycek's. The young man's whimpers turned to moans, vibrating in Skinner's mouth as they continued their kiss. Turn me on like this, boy, and you have to deal with the consequences.

Krycek's heart raced. He'd forgotten what an animal Skinner could be if you really got him going. Waking the sleeping tiger. The handcuffs bit cruelly into the skin of his wrists, his mouth ached from the power of Skinner's kisses, and the older man's fingers were digging into him so hard they were bruising his buttocks - and he loved every damn moment. As far as Krycek was concerned, pleasure mixed with pain was the recipe for the best orgasms of his life.

Oh he'd missed this so much. Skinner came up briefly for air again and then plunged back into Krycek's mouth, hardly giving the young man time to recover his own breath. But it wasn't enough, he needed to feel Krycek's strong arms around him, wanted the boy to run his hands over him the way he used to. Reluctantly, Skinner broke the kiss, reaching quickly into his trouser pocket for the handcuff key. For a moment, they locked eyes, lustful green and fiery brown, panting wildly, each remembering occasions they'd been like this together before. Time was supposed to move on but occasionally it seemed to fold back on itself, past briefly blending with the present to be savoured all over again.

Blinded by longing, Krycek was only dimly aware of the fact that Skinner was unlocking the handcuffs. At that moment escape was the last thing on his mind. He was ready to be locked up in there with Skinner for the rest of his life. All he could think of was that magnificent body, looking as if it had been chiselled into perfection, the torso of a Greek god. Released, Krycek's hands went straight to Skinner's chest, running his fingers through the soft hair, kissing the breasts and nipples with a devotional fervour, breathing in the exciting familiar musk of his ex-lover's body.

Skinner closed his eyes and let his head fall back with a long groan. His fingers automatically reached for Krycek's head, slightly surprised by finding the severe crewcut rather than the accustomed softness of his hair. But it felt good all the same, sexy and good. Jesus, the boy knew how to suck his nipples into rock. He watched as Krycek made his way resolutely down his chest, reaching the muscled abdomen, obviously intent on the reward of Skinner's erection. But in spite of the intensity of his need for Krycek, Skinner was dimly aware that he had to be the one in control that night.

"Come here," he ordered, and Krycek straightened up at once, eager for anything. Skinner kissed him again, roughly removing his jacket, then pulling up his grey sweater until it reached his chin, when they parted lips, pulled the sweater over Krycek's head and clamped lips together again in a lover's ritual they had both forgotten. Krycek gave a gentle giggle into Skinner's mouth to show that he'd remembered. In answer, Skinner drew him closer, ran his large hands over the young man's body, lifting his t-shirt to play with the erect nipples, squeezing them sufficiently to make Krycek writhe against his crotch. Alex made a hungry grab for the clasp to Skinner's belt. If he'd changed at all, he'd become a little brazen and there was an interesting edge to him that hadn't been there before, altogether more exotic. It was obvious too that he'd had other men since Skinner and the older man felt his erection twitch with excitement at the thought. Now to possess him, and experience the core of him.

Two strong hands took hold of Krycek by the shoulders, just as he had opened the zip to Skinner's trousers, turning him round, bending him over the table. Alex watched with some degree of awe as Skinner leant round him, hurriedly pushing food and place settings to the other end of the table, some of it being sent crashing to the floor in his haste. Krycek swallowed. His jeans were pulled to his knees, his t-shirt lifted up under his arms and as he lay over the table, he felt the warmth and roughness of the wood meeting with his skin. It must have been an old pine table that Skinner had had for some time for it was worn in places with dents and cuts which chafed deliciously against him.

"I want your legs wider apart," Skinner murmured and he pulled off one of Krycek's shoes and one leg of his jeans. Alex felt Skinner's body move in between his legs, splaying them out and his flesh sank down further into the wood.

Seeing the delicious twin rounds of Krycek's buttocks right in front of him, ready and eager to be taken, Skinner massaged them lasciviously, then stepping back a little slapped them hard with the flat of his hand. Krycek gave out a cry of pain and delight that caused a thrilling surge in Skinner's penis. He slapped him over and over again until the flesh was a vivid red and Krycek had started to sob.

Alex felt as if he would never be able to sit down again, his backside burned and throbbed and ached as he lay panting on the table, wondering what Skinner was going to do next. Still, he had to admit that the pain was the sexiest sensation imaginable and he groaned in pleasure.

Something cold and oily was suddenly splashed between the cleft of his buttocks, contrasting vividly with the heat of his skin. He gave a little yelp of surprise and looked over his shoulder to see that Skinner was slicking him with olive oil. Krycek wondered ironically if it was Extra Virgin. He was pushed forward again as Skinner inserted a thick strong finger inside him, making him writhe and squirm, moaning with pleasure as Skinner penetrated as far as he could, gently moving his finger around to stretch him.

He couldn't wait any longer, he had to fuck the boy now. Krycek was being so damn responsive, it was almost sending him crazy -his cries of excitement whilst he was being spanked, the way he was twisting like a flame, squeezing down on his finger and the wonderful way he moaned. Skinner pulled out of him, released his straining erection from behind his briefs and with an enormous effort at self control, eased himself slowly and blissfully through Alex's tight little ring of muscle. He stopped when he was a few inches inside. Krycek was moaning even louder now, gripping blindly onto Skinner's thighs, urging him forward, and if he didn't take a moment to adjust to the hot flesh surrounding him, it could all be over in a few seconds.

"Skinner," Krycek was pleading, his voice cracking, "fuck me! Fuck me hard!" He felt the older man stopping only inches inside him, stretching him, testing him. Krycek grabbed at the table edges in a mixture of frustration and excitement. Then Skinner started to move again, slowly building into a rhythm, working his way in to the hilt.

God, how he uses those muscles of his! Skinner groaned, pulling out to the tip and then slamming back inside the boy with a savage thrust. Krycek rewarded him with a deep cry of pain and pleasure and another clench of his inner muscles. Skinner saw Alex's knuckles turn white as he gripped the table top. Taking hold of both cheeks, pulling them further apart, slamming back into Krycek again, the power of Skinner's thrusts sent more cutlery and plates off the table and crashing onto the floor. Skinner kept on driving into Alex, enjoying the wildness, not many men could take sex as violent as this but Krycek seemed to revel in it.

Each time Skinner lunged into him, it sent a bolt of lightening pleasure through Krycek's body. Each time it wrung a cry from out of him. No-one had fucked him like Skinner, before or since their affair. The man was huge, felt as large as a stallion, brutal, lustful, amazing. Christ, he was going to be bruised after this. Every violent entry of Skinner's sent Krycek's thighs slamming against the edge of the table and his penis chafed blissfully between the roughness of the table top and his stomach.

Alex couldn't last much longer, he could feel his climax gathering momentum. Skinner was falling forward, Krycek could feel his chest hairs on his back, the sweat pouring off him, he was almost there as well. For a moment they both trembled on the brink of orgasm, then Krycek came first, screaming and bucking crazily, then Skinner followed, holding Alex's hips as firmly as he could, pumping and groaning out in ecstasy, sending load after load of hot sperm into Krycek's convulsing body. Another plate fell to the floor, neither man even heard the noise.

In his passion, Krycek grabbed Skinner's hand, needing an anchor as their bodies slowly calmed, needing to know that he wasn't going to turn on him as soon as his pleasure was finished. Reassuringly Skinner held it fast, drawing it against his body as if he didn't want to let go.

They lay over the table for some time, revelling in the frictionless glaze on their bodies, sensuous and slippery with sweat and semen and oil. Neither of them wanted to break the spell or to consider what was going to happen later that day. But it was growing light outside and Krycek could no longer hold back the question.

"Skinner," he whispered, "what are you going to do with me?"

The older man sighed. He had been hoping Krycek wouldn't ask. He knew he couldn't give a satisfactory answer but he could at least reassure.

"Firstly I'm going to heat up some pizza for you."

"I think it's on the floor."

"I have some more in the freezer." He sighed again. "Then I'm afraid I'm going to have to put you back on the balcony. Mulder's an early bird, there's no telling when he'll be here to collect you."

Krycek tensed under him. "And that's it?"

"No, that's not it. I intend to help you all I can, Alex. If you give us this information, then I can persuade as much leniency as my position will allow."

Well it was something. It wasn't enough but nothing short of being set free would have been enough. Krycek squeezed Skinner's hand in reply. It had been so good while it lasted and for a moment he'd at least been given the chance to dream. 


End file.
